


Just One More Pound

by Otaku67



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anorexia, Bulimia, Eating Disorder, Established Relationship, M/M, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otaku67/pseuds/Otaku67
Summary: Yuri has a carefully kept secret regarding how he keeps his slim figure. But it's only a matter of time before his observant boyfriend figures him out.





	Just One More Pound

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly in shock that I was able to write this. If you follow any of my works, you'll see that I haven't written any fan fiction in literally over two years. I have about five one-shots that I've started but never finished, not to mention tons of unfinished longer works. But I felt an extremely rare burst of inspiration and was able to churn out this fic in one sitting. I hope you like it!

“Do you want to go out for dinner?”

 

This question shouldn’t have filled Yuri with dread. He had been in a relationship with Otabek for months now, and they had been on plenty of dates. Shopping, walks in the park, pet stores, watching a movie… But they had never gone out for dinner. Yuri made sure of that. Otabek, ever the gentleman, always asked Yuri where he wanted to go, and Yuri was always ready with a suggestion (though he always followed with “I guess” or “But I don’t care” in accordance with his persona), and Otabek always went along with it. This was the first time Otabek was the one with an activity in mind, and it was the one thing Yuri dreaded the most. The simple, innocent question pierced through him like a knife and left him feeling hollow with fear.

 

But how could he say no to those deep brown eyes?

 

“I’ve always wanted to try authentic Spanish food,” Otabek continued. “This may be a selfish request…”

 

“It’s not selfish,” Yuri quickly assured him. They were currently in Spain for a skating competition, and Otabek had confessed on the plane ride that this was his first time visiting the country. What if he never had the opportunity to come back? Yuri would hate himself if he kept Otabek from trying the region’s cuisine, especially when it was the only thing he asked for. 

 

Otabek gave Yuri one of his faint smiles that only Yuri was able to detect. “Great. There’s a place I had in mind.”

 

About an hour later, the couple was sitting at a table for two in the corner of a four-star restaurant. They sat in silence, menus open in front of them. As neither of them spoke Spanish, they had to largely rely on pictures and Google Translate to aid them with their order; but it wasn’t the language barrier that Yuri was worried about. He had a much, much bigger problem. By himself, Yuri felt free to eat whatever he felt like, because he had figured out the secret to eating without gaining any weight. But he wasn’t alone now, and he couldn’t complete his daily post-meal ritual. What if Otabek came with him to the bathroom and heard him in the stall? He had brought a toothbrush with him just in case, but what if he didn’t brush his teeth thoroughly enough and Otabek smelled it on his breath? He could always pass it off as a bout of food poisoning, but what if Otabek didn’t believe him? It was just too risky. If he didn’t order anything at all, Otabek would be worried, so he would have to consume the absolute minimum amount of calories. He scrutinized the menu with all of this running through his head. But Yuri Plisetsky was an expert at hiding his emotions, so to the normal observer it seemed as though he was skimming the menu just as casually as anyone else. 

 

Eventually the waiter arrived and asked if they were ready to order. Yuri tensed. He still had a couple of options to weigh, but he heard himself say, “Yeah, we’re ready.” As Otabek placed his own order, Yuri frantically considered the choices he had narrowed it down to. “And you?” the waiter asked in Spanish.

 

“Salada,” Yuri blurted out. The waiter asked him several questions which he didn’t understand- probably regarding what types of meat and dressing he wanted- but Yuri just shook his head and spat out a few “No”s until the waiter bowed his head and left awkwardly. Yuri found himself breathing almost as hard as after a performance.

 

Skeptical, Otabek raised an eyebrow. “You come to a restaurant in Spain and only eat a  _ salad? _ ”

 

Yuri was relieved that Otabek questioned his order and not his behavior. He felt his muscles loosen slightly. “Maybe Spanish lettuce tastes different, shut up,” he snapped. Otabek chuckled quietly and gave a fond shake to his head, then returned to browsing his menu. 

 

The two young men waited for their meals in total silence. This wasn’t unusual for them: Otabek was a man of few words and Yuri wasn’t one for socializing, even with his best friend and lover. But this time it was a different sort of silence. Whether or not Otabek noticed it, Yuri was in a panic. Salads were low-calorie, but they were not calorie- _ free. _ If people could make a meal out of a salad alone, surely they were filling. He wasn’t even completely certain as to what would be in the salad he ordered. He should have taken more time to decipher the menu, or maybe he should have feigned a stomach ache after all… How many bites would he be able to take before he felt the need to purge?

 

The answer to that question: three.

 

When their food came, Yuri didn’t even notice what Otabek ordered. His gaze was locked on the menacing menagerie of greens placed before him. The bowl was piled high with lettuce and onions and carrots and tomatoes and olives and peppers and even boiled eggs and potatoes. It seemed to Yuri like more food than he could eat in an entire year. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Otabek had begun digging into his own meal. That meant that Yuri needed to start eating soon in order to avoid suspicion.

 

Heart racing, Yuri brought a forkful of lettuce and onions to his mouth. He took his time chewing, letting each  _ crunch _ reverberate- not to savor the taste, but to procrastinate the next bite. He forced himself to swallow, and stabbed his fork into a tomato. Was he eating too quickly? How many calories had he taken in so far? How much longer until this dinner was over? These thoughts were racing through his head and stirring up a panic as he proceeded to his third bite. 

 

Before he was even conscious of his actions, Yuri had pushed himself away from the table and stood up abruptly. Otabek looked up from his food mid-chew. “I… I need to, you know, take a piss,” Yuri stammered. Before Otabek could even fathom a response, Yuri bolted to the restroom. 

 

Fortunately, the men’s room was empty. Yuri dashed into the nearest stall and locked the door behind him, leaning against it to catch his breath. Being alone in these closed quarters comforted him. He had done this so many times that it no longer felt gross or frightening; on the contrary, it was a relief, like curling up in bed after a long day. When he was done, he would feel better, look better… He would  _ be _ better. Drawing in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and fell to his knees. Using one of the ties around his wrist, he pulled his hair back away from his face, then used his left hand to lift the toilet seat and brace himself against the bowl. He had done this dozens,  _ hundreds _ of times; it was as routine as getting dressed in the morning. He closed his eyes, raised the pointer and middle fingers on his right hand, and stuck them down his throat.

 

When Yuri made himself throw up for the first time, he was filled with immense regret afterwards. He had attempted it a handful of times in the past without success, but that first time triggering his gag reflex made him feel even worse than the failure. He used up two toothbrushes just trying to get the taste out of his mouth. And yet… He found himself wanting to do it again. Once he recovered from the disgust of it all, he realized how much lighter he felt- and the scale showed him that he didn’t merely FEEL lighter. So he told himself he would only do it  _ one _ more time, maybe right before a competition. From there, it turned into purging every time he went in public, then before he knew it, he was throwing up every single meal he ate. Any feelings of regret or disgust were soon overshadowed by the thrill of looking slimmer than ever. With his fame as the ice skating world champion, millions of eyes were constantly on him. He couldn’t afford to be anything less than perfect.

 

Yuri sat back with a sigh, wiping his mouth on the back of his right hand. He had left his bag back at the table so he didn’t have his toothbrush with him, but he could at least rinse out his mouth. Besides, if he told Otabek he was sick, he would have a reason to keep a distance between the two of them. All he had to do was hurry back to the table, and Otabek would never find out...

 

“Yura? Is everything okay?” Yuri’s entire body froze. His first fear had came true: Otabek followed him to the bathroom.

 

He had to think fast. “I- Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“Are you sure? It sounded like you were vomiting…”

 

_ Fuck!  _ Yuri’s heart was racing. “Well, yeah, I… I think I caught a stomach virus.” It was an excuse that Otabek could probably see through, but it was still reasonable enough. Maybe he would get lucky and Otabek wouldn’t ask any questions. Attempting to calm the panic rising within him, Yuri pushed himself off his knees and groped for the toilet handle. He struggled with the lock before stumbling dizzily out of the stall, only to find himself face-to-face with a very concerned Otabek. He gasped and nearly fell backwards into the toilet.

 

“I’ll pay the tab… Let’s go back to the hotel.” Otabek reached out for Yuri’s hand-- his  _ right _ hand. Yuri immediately jerked his hand away. The guilt he felt that first time he forced himself to vomit was nothing compared to the guilt he felt upon seeing the subtle hurt expression appearing on Otabek’s face. “...You get cleaned up, I’ll wait outside.” 

 

Yuri stood in shock for several moments before finally willing himself over to the sink, where he scrubbed his hands until they turned red from wrist to fingertip and rinsed out his mouth a dozen times. By the time he left the bathroom, Otabek had paid for their (incomplete) meals and was waiting for him by the entrance. “I called a taxi,” he said. And those would be the last words out of Otabek’s mouth until they got to the hotel.

 

Plenty of long silences had passed between the couple, but none had been as excruciating as this taxi ride. Otabek was always unreadable, but Yuri had never wanted so desperately to know what he was thinking. Was he angry, or revolted? Or maybe just worried…? His silence couldn’t last forever, and they would have to talk about it eventually; but what would Yuri say? Should he lie and say it was a one-time thing? No, lying would do no good; Otabek could see right through him. Then in that case, how would he react to the truth? Obviously with disgust, but would it be so bad that he ended their relationship...? That thought made Yuri’s stomach churn. He stole occasional tiny glances at Otabek, but he continued to stare at his phone in a stony silence for the entire duration of the ride. All Yuri could do was nervously suck on mint after mint while waiting in agony to arrive at their destination.

 

After what felt like hours, they returned to the hotel. Yuuri and Victor had the room next to Yuri and Otabek. Yuri prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in that the two older men weren’t home; the last thing he needed right now was for Katsudon and the old man to ask him questions. Otabek held the door to their room open for Yuri, avoiding his eyes, then slammed the door closed behind them both. “How long?” he demanded. Yuri flinched like a beaten child. He had  never heard Otabek use such a heavy tone of voice.

 

“I… I don’t know exactly, maybe… A year? Little less?" Yuri had grown so accustomed to his routine that he honestly had no idea how long he had been going through it.

 

Without warning, Otabek suddenly scooped Yuri into his arms, one arm behind his shoulder blades and the other under his knees. Yuri was only frightened for a fleeting moment: Otabek’s hold was firm but gentle. He clearly had no intention of hurting him. “Yura… How much do you weigh?” he whispered. Something in his voice sounded pained.

 

For a second Yuri considered lying again, but he reminded himself that it was useless. He weighed himself no less than five times a day, every day, so he knew the exact answer: “81 pounds,” he murmured. When he said it out loud, he suddenly felt ashamed of his weight.

 

Otabek said nothing. Instead, he carried Yuri farther into the room and gingerly set him down on the edge of the king size bed, as if he was afraid of breaking him. “Yura… I have another selfish request of you. Take your clothes off.”

 

Yuri felt his heart stop beating. He and Otabek had agreed to wait until Yuri turned 18 before engaging in anything sexual, and that was still a year away. Yet here he was, asking him in such a calm voice to take off his clothes for him… For the first time in his life, Yuri was afraid of Otabek. 

 

But Otabek took immediate notice of this fear and explained himself. “I know you’re skinny, Yura. Your costumes are always skin-tight, and I’ve held you around your waist. But I want to  _ see _ how bad it is.”

 

_ Of course, _ Yuri thought. He silently scolded himself for thinking Otabek had any insidious intentions. Slowly and solemnly, he removed his coat and then his sweater. It was then that he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window across the room. What stared back at him was little more than a skeleton with green eyes and blonde hair, but this was not what Yuri's mind's eye showed him. He could only focus on a tiny portion of roundness right between his hips. This was simply the minuscule bulge caused by the existence of his stomach, and it was only visible because he was in a sitting position. But to Yurio, it was a glob of fat that needed removing. It didn't matter that his stomach was completely empty. If he could just get rid of whatever was possibly left... Lose just one more pound....   
  


“Yuri, please look at me.” The sound of Otabek’s voice drew Yuri back into reality. He turned his entire body away from the mirror, shuddering at the image of what he just saw. His eyes met Otabek's, and within their warmth he saw a mixture of pity, worry, and agony. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" Otabek spoke in his usual stern yet soft tone, though this time, there was an evident layer of concern.

  
This baffled Yuri. Wasn’t the answer obvious? Because he wanted to be skinny. If he was skinnier, he would be more beautiful. And if he was more beautiful, he would be a more successful skater. And if he was a more successful skater, more people would love him-- and he would love himself. Yet the reason that came out of his mouth, as if his tongue had a mind of its own, was, "Because I want to be perfect."

  
"According to who?"

  
That question was even more of a surprise, but not because the answer was obvious: on the contrary, Yuri wasn't immediately sure  _ what  _ the answer was. "...Well, to... To the world." His voice wavered with a lack of confidence.

  
"Then your reasoning is invalid," Otabek retorted without missing a beat. "I'm part of the world, and so are Victor and Yuuri and everyone else who cares about you, and none of us want to see you like this. So if you're trying to please the entire world, you've already failed."

 

_ Failed.  _ The word stuck to Yuri like a thorn. The first time he tried to purge, he failed. Then when he got into the habit of it, he failed to quit. Now he felt as though he was failing his boyfriend by keeping this sick secret from him. It suddenly seemed to him like “failure” was tightly associated with this… this  _ problem _ of his. And if there was anything Yuri Plisetsky hated to do, it was fail.

 

Otabek carefully sat himself beside Yuri as the blonde stared down at his narrow lap in shame. “You don’t have to answer if you aren’t comfortable talking about it. But I just want to figure some things out.” He lightly placed his hand on top of Yuri’s, and when he didn’t recoil, he continued. “Do you normally binge before you purge?”

 

Yuri flinched at his use of textbook terminology. “Is that what you were doing in the taxi? Googling ‘does my boyfriend have an eating disorder’?” Yuri’s eyes widened at his own words.  _ Eating disorder.  _ Of course the thought had crossed his mind before, but he always denied it. He didn’t have a disorder, just a… bad habit… Yet saying it out loud felt like applying an irremovable label. His breath caught in his throat as he thought to himself,  _ I have an eating disorder. _ A tear escaped down his cheek and Otabek silently caught it with his thumb. “....But, no. I don’t binge. I eat normal meals, usually three a day. I just… get rid of them afterwards.”

 

Otabek was silent for another moment, gathering his thoughts. “...I’ve known. For a while now. Yura- Yuri, I’ve known something was wrong. I mean… Look at you. Your cheekbones are so pronounced you don’t even need stage makeup anymore. I can fit my thumb and middle finger around your wrist. Your skinny jeans are baggy on you. Over the past few months, I’ve had to watch my little Yura wither away to nothing.”

 

“Then why didn’t you say something?!” Yuri snapped, tears beginning to cascade down his face. He wasn’t mad at Otabek, and he hoped he could tell; no, he was only mad at himself for making him worry. Otabek gave his tiny hand a tight squeeze.

 

“I didn’t want to bring it up until you were ready to talk about it. And if you still aren’t ready, then… I will wait. But I want to help you.”

 

Yuri shook his head, closing his eyes tightly and trying to wipe away his tears as quickly as they came. “No. No, I have to talk about it. I don’t  _ want _ to, but… But God, Beka, I’m fucked up,” he sobbed.

 

Before Yuri could even draw in another breath, Otabek had him wrapped in a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of Yuri’s head. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that again, Yuri Plisetsky. You are  _ not _ fucked up. You’re just sick. Anorexia is a very serious illness, but it can be cured. You just need to find help. Will you let me help you, Yura?”

 

“...I… I’m in too deep, Beka. I can’t stop now--” Pressing their foreheads together, Otabek held Yuri’s face between his hands and gazed into his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to: Yuri knew he was saying,  _ I’m not giving up on you.  _ Yuri felt himself crumble into Otabek’s touch. “...Please help me,” he whispered weakly.

 

With that plea, Otabek closed the slight gap between their faces. From there his lips moved to Yuri’s tear-soaked cheeks, then his neck, then his prominent collarbones, then his concave stomach, then both his hands, then back up to his mouth for a longer, even more tender kiss. An intimate silence passed between them: the type of silence they were used to. “In the taxi, I was looking up nutritionists and therapists. I found a few options, we can look at them together. I just want my Yura to be happy and healthy again.”

 

Too emotionally exhausted to speak, Yuri just buried his face in Otabek’s chest. He realized for the first time just how small he truly was in comparison to his boyfriend. How had he let himself get to this point? But that didn’t matter anymore. Not only did Otabek still love him despite finding out his secret, he was willing to get him the help he needed to overcome it.  _ Shit, how did I ever get so lucky? _

 

“We’ll get you back to a healthy weight,” Otabek assured him, running his fingers through his blonde locks. “One pound at a time.”

**Author's Note:**

> When I first had the idea for this fic, I intended for Yuri to have Bulimia, but as I wrote it, he ended up showing more signs of Anorexia since him binge eating didn't really fit into the story. He shows symptoms of both, really. But at the end of the day, the takeaway is that eating disorders are very serious illnesses and need to be treated as such. Just telling someone "You're not fat!" isn't enough; they need actual, professional help. I also wrote this fic partly to prove the point that men can have eating disorders too.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading. <3


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